Big Sister is Always Watching
by Mesataki
Summary: The scrawled graffiti and Lamb both testify the same thing, but to whom is she watching? A look into the relationships of the elusive protectors.


"C'mon Mr. Bubbles!" the little girl sings.

Her soft footsteps are echoed by thunder as her protector dutifully follows. His pace does not change, but the Little Sister does not notice and directs him over to a rotting corpse. Here, she kneels down and begins gathering. Her Daddy stands behind, sweeping the area for splicers.

He does not see her lithe form obscured by the shadows, but he feels her all the same. His tense stance remains aware; he does not strike. She observes this and takes special note. Do not strike unless they have wronged you.

She hears the rapid, metallic clang, and she knows trouble is coming. How will Daddy handle it? A spider splicer drops from the ceiling – another follows. The Little Sister screams, and Daddy is angry. The drill's engine screams his dissent – he dashes forward and drives it into the splicer's head before the human can even react. Bits of gore and brain fly everywhere from the shattered head. More drop from the ceiling – a carefully timed ambush.

"Unzip 'em, Mr. B!" the little girl shrieks, scurrying behind her beloved guardian.

His answers are low, inhuman growls; then he strikes. Big Daddy is swift and merciless. His drill does not discriminate, and he is infallible in his resolve. She observes this, too, and takes special note. Her unseen lips twitch into a ghastly smile as he massacres them, and she revels in the violence. Gaping holes. Crushed ribs. Flattened heads. Halved torsos. Decapitated bodies. Those who would hurt Daddy's Little Sister deserve no less.

But the feral grin is soon pulled back into a vicious scowl. Even if he is the mightiest creature in Rapture, he can be beaten. The splicers are like ants overwhelming an elephant – endless in number and tenacious in their suicidal assault. The Big Daddy's suit begins hissing as it slowly depressurizes from the constant abuse, and he groans weakly. His swings grow weaker and weaker, until he can barely lift his massive arms.

Then one arrogant splicer stands on his prone form and sticks the muzzle of a shotgun right up to Daddy's head. One deafening crack shatters the protector's helmet. Blood pools on the ground.

"Mr. B!" the girl screams. She rushes to his side, her youthful face stained by hot tears. She kneels next to him and cries.

The splicers are disinterested in her mourning. A cancerous hand shoots out and grabs the little girl's forearm. She screams for help. No one touches the Little Sister but her Big Daddy. No one disturbs her from her rounds, or her Big Daddy will slaughter them. The girl's Big Daddy is an angel now.

It's Big Sister's turn to defend her Little Sister.

Yellow flickers into red – she drops down from her hiding place with a fistful of hellfire. Wrathful vengeance falls onto the splicers like judgment, and soon, the two Sisters are surrounded by the dead. Somehow, the Little Sister's dirty worn dress is untouched by the stain of blood. The girl looks up warmly at her Big Sister.

The other falters for a moment. What happens next? She kneels down to eye level and taps her shoulder, signaling to her new charge to climb into her basket. The little girl giggles and complies; Big Sister stands up and takes a moment to adjust to the new weight on her back.

"Are you going to take me home?"

She does not answer because Daddy never did. Finally accustomed to the weight of her duty, she begins slowly walking – terrified she will jostle the basket too much and potentially injure the Little Sister.

Much to her surprise and pleasure, Little Sister tells her, "Run faster, Big Sister!"

And so she does. Her sharp, booted steps are a far cry from Daddy, but giggles follow it nonetheless. They soon find themselves in front of a decorated vent. She carefully helps the Little Sister into it.

"Thank you!" the girl says before disappearing behind familiar leaves and tree designs. Deep within the darkness, a barely audible whisper reaches the gangly adolescent's ears: "Big Sister is always watching over me…"

* * *

A/N: Took me a few nights to finally put forth the effort to write it. I placed a bit of symbolism within the story - kudos if you can catch it.


End file.
